


Apprehension

by PrincessGemma12



Series: The Third Brother of Deimos and Phobos [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Bottom Leonardo, Cigars, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Comedy, Dark Fantasy, Erotic Games, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone Has Issues, Extremely Underage, F/M, Foot Raphael (TMNT), Frottage, Good Parent Splinter (TMNT), Hurt Donatello (TMNT), I Don't Even Know, I think I got everything, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Improvised Sex Toys, Intersex, Intersex Leonardo, Jealous Raphael, Leo Is Confused, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Michelangelo is Tired of People's Shit, Mild Kink, Mild Painplay, Minor A/B/O, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Nonconsensual outing, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta'd, Older Sibling Leonardo (TMNT), Oral Sex, Other, Plot related Casey/Leo, Plot related Leorai, Plot related Racey, Plot related Raph/Karai, Plot related Raph/OC, Post-Episode: s02e03 Follow the Leader, Protective Donatello (TMNT), Raphael is a Little Shit, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Lubrication, Sex Toys, So many tags, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top Raphael, Topping from the Bottom, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, What Have I Done, he's stressed af, minor smutty stuff when the kid's are 15 but nothing extreme until AFTER the farmhouse, several arc story, too many tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessGemma12/pseuds/PrincessGemma12
Summary: Deception, manipulation, love, lust, anger, fear, joy... this turtle wasn't one of their own, they weren't... weren't like THIS. Leonardo and his family were kind, they were caring, they were... they were... so ridiculously horny. A little goofing off wouldn't hurt, right? Right? It didn't matter that he was in the Foot, right? Right!?!?Or:Raph's in the Foot, raised by Shredder, and Leo doesn't know what the hell he wants.





	1. She Said It First, Not Me!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VenusTheMarvelTurtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusTheMarvelTurtle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Antithesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740878) by [VenusTheMarvelTurtle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusTheMarvelTurtle/pseuds/VenusTheMarvelTurtle). 

> Translations will be formatted {*"Like this."} where appropriate.

**1**

It had only been a few days since Karai had captured him but Leonardo insisted on going topside come Monday night. Seve long, dull nights in the lair with nothing exciting was enough for him. He wanted out, he _needed _out! Needed the cool autumn breeze on his scales, the fresh (or, at least, as fresh as could be in Manhattan) air in his lungs. He needed to feel lighter than he was, _freer_ than he was, even if he’d never say it out loud. Leonardo missed the burn in his legs from jumping over the rooftops, missed the satisfaction of a battle won, high-threes and good words shared between him and his brothers, Mikey’s whoops and hoots in his ears, no matter how often Leo scolded him for the noise.

At the moment, Leo was wiping a small trickle of blood off his arm, laughing as his baby brother howled into the void above them.

“_Owwoo_! Yeah, boi!”

Leo snickered once more, then put his mask back on. Not his blue mask, no, no. This mask was stoic, unreadable. _Cold_. More frigid than one of Sensei’s cheese pops. It was the mask that his father gave only to him, something that the leader had been forced to practise over and over again for the last several weeks. Father said that he was doing well and his brothers seemed to be at a continual loss on how he was feeling throughout patrol.

“Mikey,” the leader scolded lightly, “ninjas are _quiet_; ninjas don’t _howl_.”

The youngest turtle whined, throwing his head back. “_Duuude!_ C’mon! Loosen up!”

“Yeah, loosen up!”

All eyes turned to the rooftops above.

“_Fishface!_”

Scowling, the snakehead growled at the small team. “It’s _Xever_, _tartaruga_!”

“What-aruga?” Mikey whispered quizzically.

“Get’em!” Leo demanded, brandishing his katana.

All three of the brothers sprung up onto the fire-escape above, clambering up onto the rooftop.

“Hello, turtles.”

“Yo, dudes, not you, too!” the panicked terror in the youngest voice stole his brothers’ attention, if only for a moment. Their gazes were all locked onto the hulking form in front of them.

The being in question was more than three times their size, standing at roughly eleven feet tall. (_At least_, Donatello noted.) His hands—_no_, _paws_ were larger than all of their shells, just as most of him was. His red eyes seemed to be the embodiment of evil, promising nothing good as the turtles drew their weapons.

“Love ya’s, dudes.” Mikey squeaked.

“This is gonna hurt,” the leader sighed.

**2**

“Dude, I can’t _feel my face!_”

“We’ve almost lost ‘em, Mike!”

“I can’t feel my face!”

**3**

Crashing down on the fire escape, Leonardo grunted. _What a night!_ he thought sarcastically. _What’s next? Another new mutant?_

Panting, Donatello and Michelangelo _plopped _down beside their leader. “I think we finally lost them.” the genius gasped. “I can’t feel my legs.”

*“_Sore was kanojo ga itta koto desu_.” {*“That’s what she said.”}

Yet again, the brothers jumped to attention, on their feet and ready to draw their weapons. All three sets of eyes scanned the area—Mikey’s on the alley and streets below, Donnie’s on the rooftops, and Leo’s on the other fire-escapes. On an escape ladder two windows down, on the other of the alley, a small glimmer of light shone in the inky shadows, lit up by the moon.

“Who’s… who’s there?” Leonardo whispered breathlessly. They probably couldn’t hear him, but he was too struck by… by…

_Gods,_ what was that _smell_? Cinnamon? Ash? _What the shell?_

The little glimmers of light disappeared briefly, a quiet sniffing becoming the only indicator of the other presence. The glimmers returned and Leonardo realized that they were _eyes_ and that their new guest had just blinked—sort of. The color of said eyes, however, the leader couldn’t make out. But good god did he want to know! Wait, _what_? Why?

_It’s got to be the smell,_ he thought. _It’s just messing with my head… triggering instincts or something._

*“_Eso es lo que ella dijo?_” the stranger murmured. His voice was fruity and low, but held an inkling of annoyance. {*“That’s what she said.”}

“What’d he say?” the freckled mutant whispered to his immediate elder, who simply rose a finger for him to wait. They both turned to the other being.

*“_¿Hablas español? Y japones?_” Donatello’s Spanish was slightly broken from lack of use in recent years, but he was intelligible. That’s what was important, and the man seemed to recognise his inquiry. {*“Do you speak Spanish? And Japanese?”}

*“_¡Sí Sí lo hago!_” the stranger answered proudly. _Arrogantly_, almost. Well then. {*“Yes, yes I do!”}

*“_Kare was nihongo o hanashimasu_.” Donnie said to his team—in Japanese, not wanting seem rude to the new guy. {*“He speaks Japanese.”}

A chorus of “_oh_’s” and “_that _**_is _**_what he said_’s” followed shortly, the brothers realizing quite awkwardly what the mystery man had earlier said.

“Well, _he’s _a perv…” Mikey grumbled loudly, earning a harsh reprimand from his eldest brother.

“Ah!” the man said in an orotund voice, surprise and delight clear in his tone. “You _do _speak English.”

The multi-fluency greatly surprised Don, but Leo seemed less fazed—possibly because he thought the man was simply bilingual like the three of them.

“As do you,” Leo said matter-of-factly, arms crossed over his plastron. He’d decided that one of two things were happening: this guy was a mutant, or the three of them were as shadowed as he was. There was no way this guy could be a human and completely chill with seeing three giant bipedal turtles talking to him in a dark alleyway. “And… _Spanish_?” he asked slowly, his voice cracking slightly, raising a blush to his beak.

The being chuckled, dark and deep, and (that did _not _make Leo want to churr, it _didn’t_) moved closer to the rail of the escape, pale moonlight faintly illuminating him. “I’m Raphael,” he purred, his eyes (the brightest green any of the boys had ever seen) searing into Leonardo’s quickly dilating ones. *“_Soshite anata wa?_” {*“And you are?”}

“Shocked.” Donnie said tautly, eyes as glued to the creature as his elder’s—if for a different reason, if the scent suddenly wafting from him said anything.

Now that he was in the light more, his characteristics were much more visible. He was tall, almost as tall as Donatello himself it seemed but not as lanky—he must’ve been hunched over, or leaning on something for the brothers to have not realized. This… _Raphael_ character appeared to be overweight, his arms thick and pant legs too tight—especially around his thighs. His hands looked chubby, his fingers thicker than any of theirs’ but more akin in legnth to Mikey’s. He only had three fingies, and his skin—_no—_**_scales_** were green.

*“_¿Eres una _**_tortuga_**_?_” Donnie gasped. _Another turtle… who would’ve thunk? _{*“You’re a _turtle_?”}

*“_Tashikani_.” he nodded. {*“Indeed.”}

However, despite the apparent chubbiness of his body (even his shell was wider than theirs’), Raphael’s face was sharp and smooth. It didn’t make any _sense_.

However, Don felt a wave of relief wash over himself as Leo’s arousal seemed to flag at the lack of a well-maintained body. While not one to judge, the leader always preferred a more fit form in regards to who he was attracted to. The heady scent didn’t quit in its quest to overcome the alley completely, however, and still flowed off of him in steady, albeit milder, waves. It seemed to agitate the genius’s primal instincts. _Fascinating!_

“Uh…” Mikey murmured, the titillating aroma of another member of his species forcing heat into his face and nethers. *“_Anata no shusshin-chi was dochiradesu ka?_” His Japanese was more broken than a vinyl record after a severe earthquake, but he supposed the other’s would be able to understand him nonetheless. {*“Where did you come from?”}

The stout turtle chuckled again, a well-intended smirk playing on his face—his _really _pretty face. “You can speak English if it’s more comfortable for ya’,” he said. “I can understand.”

The sky eyed teen laughed, “Cool, bro! So..?”

“I grew up here,” Raphael began, *“_hotondo no_, I spent some time Japan when I was a pre-teen, but ultimately I’ve always been in Manhattan and Brooklyn—depended where _Papa _wanted me…” he trailed off, a far-away look glinting in his eyes. He seemed to go somewhere else, but he snapped back to the moment Leo softly cleared his throat. {*“Mostly…”}

“Sorry, I ain’t seen ‘im in a while…” the mutant rubbed the back of his neck. With the new angle, something small shone in the light, right on what Leo assumed to be the man’s shoulder.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Uh?” Raphael grunted, cocking a brow ridge—to which Leonardo responded by raising his own. “What’s what?” he looked about himself.

The blue clad terrapin pointed. “That shiny thing.”

Raphael observed the area indicated. He wasn’t “shiny” and stated so.

“Come into the light.” Curiosity wasn’t the only reason Leo was being so insistent. He _needed _a better look at this guy.

Obeying, the taller mutant hopped up on the rail, eyes locked with the others’, and lunged across the alley, landing on the other rail. Using the ladder behind Mikey’s head, Raphael pulled himself onto the platform with them He turned toward the eldest, crossing his arms. A self-satisfied smirk wormed its way onto the reptile’s lips as he watched Persian blue eyes drift below his neck.

**4**

Okay, so Donnie had been wrong: this guy was _anything _but chubby!

With the harlequin eyed mutant better illuminated, the broad shoulders and smooth, flat plastron beneath the slick looking black leather jacket were easily identifiable. His arms, clearly rippled with well-used muscles, bulged under the jacket’s restraints when they crossed. Not only was this mutant _not _chubby, he was _extremely _fit, and Donnie watched as his brother’s eyes dipped down to stare. His tail flicked angrily when the leader audibly gulped in response to Raphael puffing out his chest.

_Clearly_ some strange force had overcome the turtle! He was _never _so obvious about his arousal when it struck, and was never so disrespectful as to openly gape at the target of his lust. Was his season really _that _bad this year? It was something the mechanic would have to look into.

Unfortunately, the stranger seemed to be equally _infatuated_ with Leonardo as the leader was with him. It caused an ugly seed of possessiveness to hatch in the pit of Donatello’s stomach, the sapling quickly growing to tangle through his lungs.

The olive colored turtle cleared his throat, loudly, wanting to draw the lustful gaze _away_ from his older brother. This guy wasn’t rubbing him right, but Donnie couldn’t figure out if was his instincts telling him to protect what the brother’s had come to refer to as their “colony,” or because Raphael was _actually_ bad luck…

“So,” he began, “_what _are you doing lurking in random alleyways?”

Taken aback by the tense tone, Raphael and Leonardo both jumped at the lanky reptile’s words. “Wha’?” Leo asked dazedly, his eyes darting around. “What’d you say?”

“I _said_,” Don gritted out, raising an eyeridge, “'What are you _doing _lurking around in random alleyways?’”

The leather clad mutant turned to him, eyes lit up in what seem to be scornful amusement. “Well, I’m _obviously _playin’ the banjo!” he rolled his thin, almost almond shaped eyes. “The fuck do you _think_? I’m _hiding_.” he snarked, a scowl pulling at his lips.

“I would very much appreciate it—” Raphael turned to the speaking turtle—”if you _didn’t_ curse at my brother.” Leonardo stated sternly. “It is _quite _rude, not to mention inappropriate.”

Raphael took moment to examine the leader in blue. From his scales to the blue of his eyes, accented by the soft blue fabric wrapped around them. His face looked soft, _cute_, almost, and maybe a little feminine. His shoulders were less broad than his brothers’, though his biceps were better built. The yellow-ish plastron was scratched down the middle, as well as around his collar. His arms were equally damaged, paler green lines tracing his forearms and shoulders. Finally, Raphael dropped his attention to Leonardo’s long legs, letting his eyes linger on the toned flesh. He quirked an eyeridge at the shiny, thin trail on the inside of the other turtle’s thigh. He met the ninja’s eyes.

“Sorry, sweetheart, force of habit.” his voice was husky and deep, and it set off all the wrong bells in Don’s head.

_He needed to get Leo away from this guy _ ** _now_ ** _!_

“Don’t ‘xactly have a swear jar back home, ya’ know?”

“It’s cool, dude!” Mikey said finally, sensing the tension. “Just, ah, don’t do it again, cool?”

“Sure thing, kid.”


	2. The Aftermath of That’s What She Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys head home and set themselves up for trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly a filler, just to help get the ball rolling more, and pretty short. Things are gonna be picking up pace in the next few chapters. If there are any questions about my version of the turts' anatomy, psychology, or just some other headcanon things, please don't be afraid to ask! I love sharing and will do my best to explain in an intelligible manner!
> 
> The next chapter's longer, promise.

**1**

After their meeting with the other mutant, the brothers returned to the lair, preferring soundlessness and dark shadows over fun. No need to get into fights they couldn’t finish.

Upon returning, their father greeted them in the main room, a furry hand stroking his long beard. “My sons, you seem to be shaken more than usual.”

The three turtles eyed each other. Mikey, always jovial, only lowered his head. “We got into a pretty bad fight,” he said glumly. “There was Dogpound and Fishface, and this turtle guy…”

Master Splinter quirked an eyebrow at his son’s explanation, thoroughly intrigued. Humming, the ninja master waited for his son (or sons) to continue their night’s story. When none appeared to be opening up, he took it upon himself to drive the conversation. “Who was this turtle? Did he _attack_ you?” he asked warily. His tail swung around to rest in front of his legs.

Donatello shook his head bitterly. “He just _assaulted _Leo,” he said hotly. “But you know: _that’s _not a big deal at _all_.” Rolling his eyes, the tallest turtle returned his only older brother’s glare.

“What do you mean _assaulted_?” Splinter demanded.

“He… um…” Mikey squeaked, stepping away from his livid elders.

“Donnie’s being _overdramatic_,” Leo stated, his voice dripping with rage. “He only grabbed my leg.”

“I thought…” Mikey started quietly. “I thought it had been your thigh?”

“That’s part of my _leg_, Mike.”

“Your _upper_ thigh, Leonardo,” Donnie insisted furiously. Oceanic eyes rolled. “Do you _know_ what it usually means when someone _grabs _one’s upper thigh?”

The blush that rose to his son’s cheeks answered the question. Leonardo seemed to know _exactly_ what that meant. Oddly enough, the eldest turtle didn’t really seem to _care_. His curiosity further piqued, the ninja master cleared his throat loudly, striking his cane on the stone underneath his feet,

“What—” he looked between his sons—”_happened?_”

There was silence for several long, torturous minutes before his self-proclaimed firstborn spoke, exhaustion clear in his voice. “We fought with Fishface and Dogpound, met that Raphael guy, hung out with him for a bit, Donnie freaked out when he touched my leg, and we came home.”

It wasn’t a lie, Leonardo would never _lie_ to his master, to his father. That did not mean, however, he wouldn’t omit certain events and conversations.

“It’s late,” the blue cald mutant declared, faking a rather convincing yawn. “It was a long, tiring night and I’d really like to get to bed now.” He stretched his arms over his head. “_Sensei_, perhaps we can talk more about the fight over tea tomorrow?” he settled his eyes on his father and cringed internally at the calculating look on his snout.

“Perhaps,” Splinter stressed. “Or, _perhaps_, you boys would enjoy a morning off?”

Quick to agree, the younger reptiles nodded furiously; a large grin spanned Mikey’s freckled face.

“Maybe, if Mike and Don aren’t feeling up to an early morning.” Leo shrugged, rolling his eyes as Mikey began his dramatics: drooping eyes, mouth agape in a long, drawn-out yawn, and even a small sway. His brother really _was _an exaggerator.

“I think not,” Master Splinter noted, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Alright,” he clicked his cane on the floor. “Tomorrow, everyone will be able to sleep in.” He shot a pointed look at his eldest. “_Even _Leonardo.”

Zaffre orbs shooting to brown, the leader nodded, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. He was often (**<s>always</s>**) the first to rise of the brothers, even if he didn’t have to. It was a fact he tried to take pride in bt it wasn’t often he managed to do so.

“Welp,” Michelangelo exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly. “G’night.” With that, he took off toward his bedroom.

“Goodnight.” Donatello called after him. Turning toward his remaining company, the genius sighed out a reiteration and retired to his bed.

“Are you staying up, Leonardo?”

Swishing his tail behind him a moment, Leonardo thought about what the best course of action would be. He felt sticky between his legs but his tail _ached_. A shower tonight and then a shower tomorrow morning would be strange, would tell all what he had been doing, so it was either lie awake in clean skin with an achy tail all night, _or_ sleep in a puddle of solo-sex, do his laundry for a _third_ time that week and get a shower tomorrow. Shamefully, Leo realized he’d already made his choice.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Goodnight, father.”

“Goodnight, my son.”

With that, the father and son parted ways, though only one of them was going to find rest anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	3. Leather and Scales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what happened before the brothers returned home, and what happened after Leo went to bed. Meanwhile, a brother returns home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scene two has non-graphic sexual content involving a minor under the age of sixteen, so some of you may want to skip to scene three, however a lot of the differences between THIS Leo and canon Leo are explained some so...

**1**

It had taken a small amount of coaxing, but the three turtles had agreed to spend the rest of the night with the fourth, even if Donnie shot him askance glares over his shoulder.

They had all agreed that the billboard above a warehouse was the safest place to huddle… and boy did that Raphael huddle.

As soon as their leader was seated on the far right side of the advertisement, the two younger brothers watched as the new turtle pressed himself snug against Leonardo’s side. It didn’t look like the leader minded the closeness, but Donatello couldn’t help the sharp strike of protectiveness for his elder brother. _Something _was going to happen and he had a feeling he was the one who was going to have to deal with the aftermath. But as the seconds turned to minutes, the two rather ardent turtles huddled together seemingly deep in conversation, Donnie’s unease quickly morphed into anxiety. Questions filled his brain, each bringing on a whole new set of additional inquiries.

Who was this guy, really? How long had he been a turtle? How did he get mutated? More important than anything: how _old _was he and _what _did he want with Don’t big brother.

Well… the lanky turtle could come up with few estimations for those questions, obviously he couldn’t have been born or raised as a turtle, mutant or otherwise. His Japanese and obvious fluency in other languages, English aside, plus the claim that he’s been raised here in the city meant that he must have been a human prior to his transformation. However, his clear ease of mobility indicated that he was used to and comfortable with his body, therefore he must have been mutated some time ago, and he seemed pretty lax about there being _other _giant talking turtles. Donnie pegged him at his mid-twenties.

“Hey, Dee?” Michelangelo whispered behind him, eyes locked onto the scene opposite them. He wasn’t sure about this new guy either.

“Yeah, Mike?” Absent-mindedly, the genius reached a hand into his pouch of _shuriken_, maneuvering a few of the stars into his grip.

“Is Leo gay?” the youngest asked quietly.

“What?” Don gasped, his full attention now on his little brother. “Why do you ask that?”

Meeting his eyes, Mikey answered, “Well… being gay means you like the same gender, right?” (Donatello nodded.) “And, well, Leo’s a guy… right?” (More nodding.) “And he seems to be really into this guy, right? So—”

“He’s not.”

Taken aback by the growl, the nun-chuck swinger chuckled nervously. “Um… what?” he squeaked quietly. “Dude, can’t you _smell_ him?”

Tensing further, Donatello glared into the baby blues beside him. “It’s _mating season_,” he said tersely. “It’s _nothing _more than his body and mind demanding to further our limited population.” he insisted. “He’s responding to the pheromones and strong appearance of an available male.”

Uncertain of the accuracy of that explanation, Mikey turned his gaze to the other pair of mutants.

They were still huddled together, seemingly quite content to be pressed against the other’s side. Only now Raphael had his arm draped across Leonardo’s shoulders, the leader’s beak _shmushed _into the leather jacket’s collar. The green eyed turtle had his head bent so his own nose was pressed against the leaf green scalp. Their lips were moving—well, Raphael’s were.

“I don’t know, dude,” he said. “They seem to be hittin’ it off.”

“Mikey,” the genius sighed, “I _assure you _that—”

“_Ah!_”

All four turtles froze, and Donnie slowly slid his eyes over to the source of the shout.

Leo, in all of his immensely flustered glory, was chuckling tensely, one hand pushing on the chest of the being that was now perched atop his lap, a knee on either side, and the other hand onto… onto…

“Get yourself and your—” the shrill shriek pulled all attention to him—“hands _off of my brother!_” he demanded.

Clearly rattled, the hulk of a reptile slowly extracted himself from the leader’s lap, but not without allowing his hands to trail along the lightly colored scales—his left gliding from flushed cheek to bared neck and lifting off only when the digits caressed the very edge of Leo’s plastron, and the right dragging along the length of his thigh, from the joint to the knee. All the while, electric green stayed locked with ruddy brown, two shades of blue darting from one to the other.

“My bad,” Raphael conceded. “Too soon, I got’cha.” His eyes locked onto the deep blue orbs he’d been so transfixed on earlier. “I won’t do that again, yeah, sweet eyes?”

Leonardo gulped audibly, watching the turtle beside (though now facing the side of the billboard the other Hamatos were) him lick his lips. A slow nod had the almost-stranger smirking. He clenched his legs together, drawing his knees up to his chest as he was assaulted with a new, stronger wave of Raphael’s musk. Leo’s tail, thick and wet with arousal, throbbed against the cool metal of their hiding place.

“I _think_,” Donnie was seething through his teeth, “it’s time we _go_, yeah, _Leo_?” The extra emphasis on his brother’s name was unnecessary, but his brain was too high on pheromones and envy (_irrational _envy; he wasn’t even _into _Leo!) to care about being mature. Oceanic orbs locked onto his, shock and realization flicking through them before the leader nodded quickly. “Y-yeah,” Leo cleared his throat. “Father’s gonna start to get worried soon, and we’re kinda far from home right now—” he unfolded himself, wincing slightly—“and it’ll take us a while to get back.”

“Still wanna meet up next week?” Three pairs of eyes snapped toward him, two of which the leather-clad turtle chose to ignore. “Or did I fuck up too bad?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Uh,” Leo stumbled with his words, suddenly distracted by the large bulge in the other’s jeans. _Were his pants _**_wet_**_? _“Ye-uh-yeah,” He stood. “Yeah, I’ll see you Thursday.”

**2**

Needless to say, Leonardo got an earful on their way home.

**“We don’t _know _him, Leo!”**

**“He could be a _pedophile_, Leo!”**

**“What if he’s only interested in _sex_, Leo!?”**

**“What if he’s a murderer, Leo!?”**

_Leo, Leo, Leo._

The first two statements were easy to reply to: Raphael was a potential ally just as April once was, all those weeks ago. They knew as much about her then, saving her from the Kraang, as they did about Raph (as Leo had been instructed to call him) now. Raph was a teenage (as Leo had learned) mutant turtle just like the rest of them—athletic, fifteen, and (partially) raised in NYC. He just had a different origin.

But those questions? Leo had a hard time with those. Truthfully, Leo couldn’t have cared less if Raph had only wanted a hook-up. His brain was too fried in lust to. However, they didn’t _really _know the new mutant—he _really could be a murderer_!

Leonardo guessed he;d just have to keep his nose on the lookout for any unexplained blood scent.

If there ever was, which he highly doubted there would be, he’d simply put the larger turtle on surveillance. Stalker-ish, yes, but it’d be the same way with any human they found suspicious, whether Leo found them attractive or not. For now, until someone or something proved Raphael was trouble (or, more trouble than a normal sex-crazy teenager), Leonardo felt no shame in his blatent oogling and flirtation. Why should he? People hooked up with strangers all the time, right?

_Right._

Unfortunately, their <s>date </s>meeting wasn’t until next week—a full five days away!—but Leo (with the small part of his brain that was sobered by his conversation with his father) supposed that was best. By that time, he’d be out of heat and able to think with his brain rather than his dick and tail. They’d only said that they’d catch some pizza and Leo would bring some pop. Maybe he’d be able to steal a kiss… or two or seven… yeah, that’d be nice.

The moment his bedroom door was closed, the eldest turtle leaned against it, head thumping against the wood gently. He swiped his tail up between his thighs and grimaced at the drying slick that dragged against the small, sensitive scales. He pressed back harder and widened his stance, a gust of air whooshing from his lungs as he dropped a hand to tease the tender cartilage hiding his cock.

It wasn’t long before he was stroking himself, lungs gasping for air as he coaxed the night’s first climax closer. He was barely able to contain the desperate churr that clawed at his chest, instead moaning brokenly as he came, one hand clamped over his beak to stifle the embarrassing sounds. The ninja was weak-kneed before the aftershocks were gone and he stumbled onto his bed, still panting gently.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Raphael, how nice it had been to be held between two strong, powerful arms, pressed against someone so similar to him physically, who had the same taste in music, the same taste in morning television… It was a little slice of Heaven and the second circle of Dante’s Hell at once. Having someone’s undivided attention like that was magnificent and Leo couldn’t _wait _to have it again! His imagination provided.

** _He was panting, waiting for the moment the other’s mouth finally descended on his. They were already conjoined, his tail wonderfully numb and tingling under the steady rhythm of Raphael’s thrusts._ **

In reality, Leo was painfully alone, eyes scrunched in pleasure against his pillow. He snaked a hand down under his plastron, passed his still-stiff member. He readjusted on his knees, widening them before he lifted his tail back up.

Fantasy-Raph shoved an arm under his shell and forcibly lifted his gyrating hips. He imagined the digit digging into him was something longer, thicker. He tried to implement some moaning, maybe a churr, into his fantasy, make it more realistic, but he couldn’t figure out how it’d sound coming out so gruff, so deep. Neither of his brothers had such a deep voice and he’d only heard the new terrapin grunt, laugh and talk. He made do.

** _“Ya’ like that?”_ **

Another finger, another orgasm twisted out from his cock. He found himself rubbing against the little wall in his cloaca, right where the two passages split. _Would Raph even be okay with his… unique biology?_

He didn’t get time to contemplate it. He kept twisting, kept rubbing, squeezing, spreading… He buried his face deeper into his pillow, a churr bubbling up and out as he scrubbed a palm over his spurting head. He bucked down into his already sticky sheets.

“Huh-_ah—!”_

Gasping, shaky and slightly bewildered as the intensity of his heat died down a little, just a little, Leonardo rolled onto his side.

He let out a whine and draped an arm over his sweaty face, groaning when he smeared cum and slick across himself.

It seemed like these damn heat cycles got worse and worse the older he got… he’d only had them a few years now but _surely _they shouldn’t _still _be so unbearable! Maybe Donnie could whip up something for him before he did something stupid…

Stupider than he already had anyway…

He let sleep embrace him and dreamed of nothing but his current clusterfuck and being wrapped up by a young man twice his size.

**3**

It was a quarter after eleven and Karai was about to turn in. It had been a long day, Father had very nearly worn her to the ground. _Nearly_. She wasn’t going out tonight.

Then Bradford and Xever walked in.

“Master Shredder!” the annoying fish cried happily. “We are so glad you’re still awake, we must’ve caught you right on time!”

Karai felt her blood boil as he spoke. They had _clearly_ engaged with the turtles (the bruises dotting Xaver’s red scales were evidence enough) but had (yet **_agian_**) returned _empty handed_. She should’ve beheaded them herself!

“What, Xever?” the two mutants knelt before their master’s throne of cold steel and iron.

“We came across the turtle brothers—”

“And where might they be?”

“Do not interrupt, daughter.”

“_Sorry_.” the sarcastic tone seemed to go unnoticed by the clan master, his full attention seemingly devoured by whatever tale his soldiers were telling him. Tired, annoyed, Karai had tuned out after a few sentences, preferring to toy with a handful of scales she’d picked up from a rooftop last week. Something told her they were Leo’s but she wasn’t sure.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since Bradford and Xaver’s arrival, but soon enough the doors were crashing open with a loud, brain-jarring _bang!_

In the light seeping through the doorway a tall, dark green figure stood adorned in leather, the studs on their shoulders glinting in the moonlight. Karai froze, the scales falling to the floor.

“_Ani?_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ani" is Japanese for "brother" or "younger brother."
> 
> Comments are appreciated as always, also if there's anything y'all need cleared up about anything, just ask, I have anon comments on.
> 
> As some of you may know, I've undertaken the TMNT Universal Fanfiction Competition (located primarily on Tumblr, but also on DeviantArt). For this coming year, we're accepting OC refs to feature YOUR OWN characters in the official competition art. If you are interested, please click the link* below, which will take you to the competition's Discord server. If you do not have a Discord, I will link you to our Tumblr and/or DeviantArt. Alternatively, you can contact me on any of my platforms (listed on my profile here).
> 
> *https://discord.gg/PDZqzux


	4. Shove Me Outside

####  **[1]**

When morning finally came, Donatello was still tired. _ Exhausted _actually. His shell had been bruised during their fight the night previous and he hadn’t been able to alleviate the pain—Aspirin did good for cuts, burns, and scraps but little for bone and cartilage. There was only so much a turtle could do, especially at ungodly hours that not even criminals crept around at.

At length, he hadn’t slept a wink. He had, however, run an in-depth “background check” on the _ Raphael _ character. Something about him just didn’t sit right with Donnie. Set off alarms that even the Foot didn’t… The worst part was that he felt _ familiar _to Don…

Scarily familiar.

The so-called background check consisted of Dee fervently stalking the turtle through security cameras across the city. It took some hacking he’d never be able to tell his father about, as well as some dubiously moral blackmail to a Dragon they often went to for intel, but he’d managed to flip through the right borough to find Raphael within an hour of searching. The tracking worked for a little bit, kind of. A glimpse here and a scrap of leather peeking out from behind a dumpster there. The guy seemed to know the city’s camera placements because he avoided them as if they’d physically harm him.

_ Suspicious _didn’t even begin to cover half of it, in Donatello’s humble (and, admittedly, biased, season driven, over-exerted and partially insane) opinion. Why would some rando know where traffic and security cams were?

Answer: he _ wouldn’t _.

Only a criminal would feel the need to hide like that. That or someone with extreme paranoia… or a ninja but THAT was unlikely.

_ Right? _

“Don, breakfast!”

Throwing a low hiss in a general direction over his shoulder, Donnie shook himself and closed his laptop. “Coming!” he called in a mock-cheery voice. He reminded himself not to take his frustrations out on his family—or, at least not on Mikey and Sensei—as he walked into the kitchen.

“Donatello, my son,” Splinter greeted tensely, albeit kindly. “You look as if you haven’t slept in weeks.” Concern was clear on his face and Donnie cringed as his chest tightened with guilt. He should’ve made more of an effort to rest.

“I’m…” he checked himself on the deep inhale of pheromones his body wanted to take as Leo came in behind him and sat down. “I’m fine, Sensei,” he began timidly, hoping to hide the sudden and seriously displaced reaction to his brother’s scent. “My shell was bruised in the fight last night and my brain’s just been spinning—”

“It is _ fine _, Donatello.” the rat said soothingly. “Come—” he gestured to the empty seat across from Michelangelo’s usual chair—“sit.”

The teen nodded, keeping his head down as he sat beside his elder brother. The leader’s scent—sugary with a pinch of salt that reminded him of the harbor—was stronger there and the genius’s cock gave an interested twitch.

“Who wants pancakes!?” Mikey cheered, brandishing a large plate stacked with the fluffy delicacies. “They’re algae and worm free-ee!”

Leo giggled at their brother’s antics, surging forward to snag a handful of the thick discs.

In the next few moments, all four Hamatos had a syrupy plateful. Their father decided it was time to address last night’s events.

“My sons,” he began, eyeing his eldest curiously as he _ shoved _ a forkful into his already-full mouth. Since when did _ Leonardo _ do that? He stored the topic for later. “I wish to discuss the events of your latest journey to the surface. Specifically—” he waited for all three boys to look to him, rather than their food—“I have questions for _ Leonardo _.”

Watching quietly, and suspiciously, as the turtle lost color, the ninja master raised an eyebrow. _ How worrying _…

“If I am to understand correctly, the three of you encountered a few enemies. _ Is _this correct?” he asked calmly, as he usually did, hoping the normalcy would return some color to his son’s beak.

All three teenagers answered, “_ Hai _, Father.”

“Leonardo, please describe how this battle was brought about.”

“Well, Sensei,” he began, a little of the usual color returning to his features, “we were doing our rounds near the art museum around the Flatiron district and we encountered Fishface and Dogpound.” the teen stopped, contemplating his next words. “Do… you want me to recall the proceeding battle?” he asked nervously. Their father never was one for cowardice, though he believed in a healthy dose of fear, and the leader wasn’t keen on being the one to confess the fact that they had, yet again, run away screaming from an enemy. It was embarrassing enough _ without _their father’s backlash.

“No.” Master Splinter attempted to soothe his clearly rattled son by placing a hand on his bright green arm. “_ Donatello _ will.”

All eyes went to the aforementioned brother, two anxious and one expectant.

“Well?” Mike breathed attentively.

“Oh!” Donnie jumped, spiked with trepidation as the fleeting thought that they might be able to smell his arousal flitted across his mind. His tail tucked up against his backside more tightly at the thought. “Oh, well, heh heh heh, we fought Dogpound and Fishface—”

“I am aware.”

The second eldest raised a finger in agreement. “Right, well, _ ahem _ , both sides sustained a number of injuries of varying severity; Dogpound is _ most certainly _concussed—”

“What?” Mikey interjected confusedly. blinking rapidly.

“He has a concussion—congrats on that, by the way.” He took a breath that did not make the muscles in his slit pulse, thank you, and smiled at his beaming little brother. “My shell was bruised; Leo received a few shallow cuts and a minor head injury—just a bump, really, but let me know if you feel any dizziness or headaches, okay?—and Mikey twisted his ankle during our retreat—I wanna look at that later, by the way—but all-in-all we’re fine. Leo sliced up Fishface pretty good and I’m pretty sure his robotic legs had some sort of leak because of him.” the long-winded estimate focusing more on the total health score rather than the actual battle caused Donatello to take a deep breath.

_ Stop twitching stop twitching stopstopstop _ ** _stopSTOP_ **.

Their master stroked his beard while he listened, seemingly deep in thought. He made note of the flushed state his tallest son was in, and the shifting form beside him. The clan master suspected it was due to their quarrel but a vague odor made him wonder. He filed it away for later, as well as the want for a more detailed account of the battle. He sighed silently and laid eyes on his youngest. “And… what of the other turtle?” a thick black brow cocked expectantly.

Michelangelo deflated substantially under the question, drawing a concerned glare from his father. “W-well…”

“Yes?”

“His name was Raphael. Uh… I think Leo called him ‘Raph?’ He’s fifteen, at least, that’s what Leo said, and he speaks… _ Japanese? _” He turned to his brothers, who nodded affirmatively. “Right, guys, okay.” He bobbed his head absently and sucked in a deep drawl of the swirling pheromones around him. His eyes lifted to his brothers, then his father as the orange banded ninja opened his mouth to speak. His brow ridges shot up in heedfulness. “Are you okay, Sensei?”

Master Splinter had a punched, aghast expression carved into his features, giving Mikey the horrid thought that they had a poltergeist of some sort. The young ninja wondered if his father realized he was staring.

The brothers shared a look, confusion laced across their faces.

“Father?” Donatello started hesitantly. “Is there… something wrong?”

####  **[2]**

_ “I would like to purchase these four turtles.” A rough hand gestured to the glass tank. _

_ “Alright, just head on up to the counter and I’ll be right over with the little guys.” _

_ “Thank you, kind man.” _

_ “Yeah, sure.” _

####  **[3]**

“Sensei…? Sensei? Father? _ Otōsan*! _” {*“Father!”}

“Yes, my sons?!”

The jump and visible panic were unusual enough, but it was paired with teary eyes and a strained voice. For the three boys that were used to seeing their father strong and commanding, it was downright _ frightening _.

“Dad…?” Leo said slowly, eyeing his brothers discreetly.

“Yes,” Splinter blinked several times in quick succession, clearing his throat loudly. “Yes, Leonardo?”

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

“Are you _ sure _?” Donatello asked carefully, concern having broken his arousal and replaced it with disbelief. He cocked an eye ridge at his father’s defiant glare.

“Y—” Splinter stopped the lie on his tongue, a torn expression planted on his snout. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. He let the air out of his lungs, allowing the image of dark green scales to go with it. “No, not…” he sighed, opening his eyes slowly. “Not yet. I will meditate after we eat. Then, I will be alright.” He nodded solemnly, though finally. That would be the end of the discussion until after he had time to calm down. He returned to his food as his charges nodded.

He didn’t see Leonardo cast his gaze over to Donatello, then Michelangelo, nor did he notice the way his eyes drooped to the sodden and cold pancake left on his plate.

Apprehension fluttered in and sat above his heart as he thought of asking about his _ other _little brother.

####  **[4]**

Karai sat comfortably in _ seiza _ , a burning candle in hand and two unlit pillars nested inside bowls of old wax before her. The flame kissed each dark wick ere it was settled into its own nest between them. The _ kunoichi _ flicked her box of used-up matches across the floor to the mutant sitting there. She received a scoff and grunt, a smile twitching at her lips as the _ shoji _door scraped open.

_ He _ would soon realize there weren’t any more matches—nor a sole lighter—in the small _ dojo _ supply room. No, that shopping trip would be made by her, via email, and wouldn’t arrive until next week. Karai now had the pleasure of meditating _ by herself _ , just as she had done for the last two and a half years. _ Excellent _.

Only… she never heard the _ shoji _door close. Narrowing her eyes, the Elite squinted out into the dark room, her focus locked on the farthest corner. The paper door was most certainly open but she was the only being in the room.

The mutant, bulky and tall, shuffled back in, closing the door behind itself. It strode to its original position and, with three quick clicks of stone and metal, lit the three candles it had.

Karai fought to suppress a growl.

####  **[5]**

Leonardo shifted uneasily, many a question on his mind. Hoping to ease the way of conversation, the leader chose to inquire about the rarely mentioned fourth Hamato son.

“Father?” he asked with hesitance. “What was our brother’s name?”

Bile threatened to claw up his throat as he spoke, dreading the answer he knew he was going to be given.

“Raphael.” Splinter spoke softly with a hint of puzzlement, his usually strong, steady voice wobbling. “His name was Raphael.”

Leo knew by the concerned gazes of his family that his nausea was visible.

“My son, your brother passed many, _ many _years ago—there is no possibility of this new mutant being him.” His furry brows were knitted in bewilderment and a clawed hand ran across his beard.

The forest green turtle nodded swiftly, tensely, almost reassured by his master’s promises. _ Almost _. He couldn’t shake the ugly feeling of anxiety that crawled around in his stomach and threatened to lay down there. A glint of something Splinter didn’t recognize flashed through his son’s dark blue eyes.

“He’s fifteen.” the declaration was practically a whisper but everyone at the table heard it anyway, and heard the defiance behind it. Donnie rose to make sure he was between the two eldest family members when the ticking bomb went off. He walked around the table as if to go into the fridge, but lingered by the island. He needed to keep Mikey out of this.

“Leonardo, your brother is gone.”

“He’s the same as us.”

“Bro—” Donnie was quick to wrap a cool hand around the youngest’s head to cover his mouth.

Their father gave a pained sigh. “Leonardo—”

“And his name is the same.” his color was quickly draining again, panic rising up, up, up, all the way through his gut and something was gonna happen, something bad was gonna—

“_ My son _.”

“Maybe he survived and—”

“_ Watashi wa sore ga okoru no o mimashita*. _” {*“I watched it happen.”}

The bark left the room silent and stunned, tension making the air thick. The thing crawling through Leo’s gut dissipated with a _ pop _, as if a balloon, but the nagging warning that something terrible was going to happen wouldn’t leave. It made his eyes sting and his legs tremble anxiously.

Never one for non-enjoyment, Mikey piped up. “He just—” he cleared his throat and gestured to Leonardo. “He just wants to be _ sure _ , ya’ know? It’d be _ really _ weird if the guy he spent the night flirting with turned out to be our _ long lost brother _or something, right?” blue eyes scanned the faces of his family, taking in their shocked expressions. “Guys?”

The crawling thing returned with talons, clawing up his throat and out with a petrified gasp. The screeching and clatter of Leonardo’s chair brought their father’s attention back to the eldest, who pulled his shaking body up from the floor. With an undignified whimper, the turtle launched himself toward his bedroom and locked himself away.

Two pairs of brown zeroed in on the youngest Hamato, one slightly pissed-off and the other puzzled.

The pissed-off eyes growled something about mating seasons and heat cycles while the other ones inquired about their son’s orientation.

Michelangelo had no response for either, sinking down into his chair as the reality of what he’d just done dawned on him. _ Fuck _.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> As of March 2020, the TMNT Universal Fanfiction Competition is no longer accepting OC references. We apologize to any who were running behind with theirs, but the Toot Your Own Horn event should be commencing soon! I say 'should' because we're having some technical difficulties in regards to our electronics and are unsure when we will be able to continue with the events as planned. I apologize for this, as it's as much an inconvenience for you guys as it is for us staff members, but please be patient and as awesome as always!


	5. Chapter 5 (pt. 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rough draft of chapter five. Wanted to give y'all something in a sort of apology for the long wait. I'm starting to get off the crazy writing block I've had with this fandom, so I should have more up in the next while.

**1**

Leonardo more or less remained in his room until his night out with Raphael. He came out to train, eat, get water or tea, and use the bathroom/laundry room. That was it. He didn’t come out to play video games with Mikey or talk about Star Wars or some other sci-fi media with Donnie, or to talk leadership or strategy with their father—not even _Space Heroes _could drag him out of his room. The anti-social behavior went completely out the window when Thursday rolled around.

“I don’t think you should go alone, my son.”

Splinter’s voice startled Leo at the entrance to the lair. The teen froze, glancing over his shoulder. “Uh… hey, Master Splinter.”

“Leonardo,” Splinter began, chuckling, “do not act as if you are being apprehended for a crime—you are fine, I promise.”

The rat’s calm voice soothed his son, reassuring him. He wasn’t being confronted. Not yet, not now, at least. Splinter just didn’t want him alone with a stranger. That was normal, right? Things were normal, nothing had changed. Not a single thing, nope.

“Okay.” the teen nodded slowly. “I’ll… go get them…” he sighed, wondering how Donnie was going to react. “I guess.”

The leader made for the lab’s entrance, regret and confusion in his eyes, only to be stopped after a few steps by a clawed hand on his shoulder.

“Yes?” Leo turned his head to look back at his father. The deep mocha orbs of the man softened the hurt that had been living inside of the boy for the last few days, and the rat’s next words eliminated it completely—at least for now.

“I love you, Leonardo. I hope you know that, and know that it’s not something anyone or thing can change.”

The firm finality of the tone and the tender gaze nearly (_nearly_) brought tears to Leonardo’s eyes. _Damn hormones._ Nonetheless, he surged toward his father and embraced him tightly, forcing his voice to be steady. “I love you, too, _Otōsan._” It was barely a whisper but he didn’t worry whether his father heard or not; those ears weren’t just for show, after all. Instead, Leo breathed a sigh of relief and released his _sensei_.

“I will be here when you are ready to talk about it.” the declaration was met with uncertain eyes. Splinter held up a hand to calm his teen. “I will be, whenever that day arrives. In the meantime, I will collect Michelangelo for you. He will be ready in five minutes or less so that you are not late.” With that, he turned and walked away, the hallway with the turtles’ bedroom doors in front of him.

“You’re lucky we’re going with you, ya’ know.”

Again, Leo started, whirling to face the laboratory doors. He flushed angrily when his blue orbs landed on Donatello, furious that he’d been listening to his and their father’s conversation. Short and rather vague as it had been, it was still a private discussion. Leo didn’t go around breaching _Donnie’s _privacy, did he!?

Scrubbing excess moisture from his eyes, the katana-wielder ground out his disapproval through clenched teeth. “That was a _personal discussion_, Donatello, so _why _were you listening to it!?“

Crossing his arms, Donnie glared at his older brother defiantly, brown eyes cooler than Leo was used to.

_It’s mating season,_ he reminded himself. _Of course Donnie’s acting weird. He’s probably choking on his own pheromones!_

Throwing an eye-roll, and a huff for extra measure, the leader let loose the only sound he knew would make the other get the fuck off his shell. He growled, low and long, and less intimidating than he would like to admit.

He could train himself to speak more deeply, but he couldn’t train himself to growl, churr or chirp like a male (without excess female hormones) if he rarely ever made those noises. That was okay, though. it wasn’t like anyone other than his brothers (and occasionally their father) were ever going to hear those sounds from him. His growls got the point across with his brothers, and happy churrs (the only kind he’d _ever _let slip around anyone outside of his immediate family) were naturally higher-pitched than the mating calls. He didn’t have to worry about questions or strange looks from anyone.

Besides, no one would ever want to hear his mating call, anyway, so he didn’t bother dwelling on it.

_So why waste your time thinking about Raphael? _His mind demanded. _he won’t want anything to do with you if he finds out._

Donnie sneered but smartly clamped down on the retort clearly waiting on his tongue. Both quieted as they sensed (and saw) the approach of Master Splinter and Michelangelo.

“Go grab your gear, we’re leaving in—” Leo cleared his throat, forcing his naturally soft voice to be deeper, and trying to ignore the blush that rose to his face—“we’re leaving in two minutes, so be quick.”

With that, he turned to the lair’s entrance and made himself at home on one of the turnstiles while Splinter left them for the _dojo_. Mikey plopped down on one of the couches, purposely putting himself between his brothers.

With an almost silent growl, Donatello, as usual, did as he was told.

**2**

The trek through the tunnels was, like their last trip, tense with barely (_just _barely) contained rage and irritation.

Yet again, Mikey was placed strategically between his most ill-tempered family members, a physical barrier keeping their nails out of each other’s skin. He hated it, but someone had to play the role.

_Right?_

_Right._

Unfortunately, nothing could keep the eldest brothers from bickering. He just wished they’d do it in _English_.

A series of clicks and chirps made him cringe and he hated that he didn’t have to translate the strange, mangled language. That his understanding of it was as natural as his scales.

One of the best things about having Leo and Donnie as his brothers was that they didn’t often get angry about impersonal things—they’d get pissed over a prank that humiliated them because it humiliated them, but they didn’t get angry at Mikey for wishing he could live topside with humans, because it didn’t have anything to do with them. Mike was a social butterfly and wanted the interaction; he craved friends like a starving bee craved the sweet nectar of a flower. How could they, understanding and kind as they were, ever get or be mad about something like that? It’d be hypocritical as all hell!

However, if someone were to, say, accuse Leonardo of not having control of himself and his hormones? To accuse Donatello of being more animalistic than human in behavior? For Donnie to accuse Leo of such a thing, and Leo to accuse Donnie? That was far, far different from some wannabe rapist jeering at them to get under their scales, far different than Mikey pulling a prank that goes just a little too far to be easily swept under the rug of brotherhood. Donnie and Leo’s words—no, not words; clicks, chirps, growls, _noises_—were _personal_. They cut the skin—they didn’t scratch, they _cut_, and that sort of thing wasn’t easily swept under the rug.

Sometimes, that sort of thing wasn’t swept under the rug at all…

“Guys, guys, c’mon, cut it out.” Michelangelo implored. The clicking and growling continued. “Guys.” And continued. “Guys, knock it off, you’re being jerks.” And continued. “Guys! C’mon, let’s just meet up with this guy and try to have a nice night, alright? Stop fighting!”

Leonardo began snarling, third eyelids slipping down and fingers twitching at his sides as he gazed over the top of his youngest brother’s head. Donatello performed a similar show, hunching down slightly and leaning closer to try and bare his teeth in the leader’s face. But Mikey was in the way, and no matter what he said, his brothers just _would not stop fighting_, even though he knew they didn’t mean the terrible things they were saying about each other, that Leo didn’t really believe that about April, and that Donnie didn’t really think that about Splinter just because he made Leo leader, and—

** _“BE QUIET!”_ **

His snarl finally got through to them and their eyelids snapped up to reveal their shocked orbs. They trembled like chihuahuas, the scent of their wrath still permeating the tunnel they’d stopped dead in. Finally, _finally_, they were quiet. The steady drip of water from a leaky pipe behind them, the trickle of the shallow, slow, steady flow of sewage beneath them, and the elders’ harsh pants were the only sounds around them.

Leo was the first to come back to himself. “We’re being stupid, Donnie,” he muttered glumly, voice raw and scratchy sounding. “Donnie, I’m sorry.”

The orange-banded turtle breathed a sigh of relief and slouched between them.

“Yeah?” the genius snapped scathingly. “You should be. What kind of leader—oh, what the _hell_ are _you _doing down here!?”

Yet again, Leo turned to find that he and his brothers had been snuck up on. Mikey could see that he was kicking himself mentally, and went to lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder, then thought better of it. He watched his eyelid twitch and his throat work silently.

Hanging upside-down from an open manhole, Raphael grinned at them smugly. He looked as cool as a cucumber; as if he was simply watching a weekend game show that he’d guessed the right answer on. “Man, you guys sure are easy to sneak up on. You’d think…” he didn’t finish his sentence, but Mikey saw something akin to regret flash across his eyes.

“Think what?” Don demanded coolly.

“_Nothing_,” Raphael stated firmly, glaring back into the cold mocha spheres. “Leo, no offense, but you were the only one invited.“

“Oh,” Leo muttered, lips pursing in clear frustration. He shrugged and shook his head. “Sorry, but I wanted them to come. We don’t meet many new people, so we’re a little nervous when we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that this is A.) a rough draft and not a complete/final version and B.) just the first half of this chapter. the complete chapter will be my next update, for which I'll simply update THIS chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and whatnot and really appreciated!


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